Fix you Chapter One
by microwavableicecream
Summary: welll this is like my frist storie ;D I hope you like


**Chapter One**

"I envy your conviction"

Brief. Short. Thorny words. Despite what he was Johnny intended to be a comforting or encouraging farewell, Marie was not at ease. As she had said earlier to her captor , she would rather not died, but apparently this was not her decision.

She was not afraid. She just didn't want to do it. On the positive side, the pain would be over shortly.

She wa watching the thin, skeletal hands that resembled hers slightly, reach for whatever mechanism would bring her to her premature death; when a piercing noise cut through the air, startling both into looking upwards towards where it had originated. It sounded peculiarly like someone being electrocuted.

Marie tried to put together everything that her recent expiriences with Johnny, trying to put together a hypothesis of what could have produced that sound. "Is that-"

Johnny cut her off , holding up one hand as his eyes slowly moved downwards. "Someone..."

Relief flooded through Marie Razzmatazz's body. Johnny had not **wanted** to kill her, but had to, for some strange reason that didn't made a lot of sense to her. If someone else were to come, perhaps, someone more deserving of this fate than she had, then maybe she wouldn't have to die…

"Someone at the door?"

"Shh." There was a groing sense of agression and frustration of Johnny's voice. He was apparently thinking deeply or considering what he had to do, definantly not focusing on the immediate reality at that moment. Johnny's silence was not good, not good at all.

Marie decided that, if her life could be ended at any moment, she may as well attempt to delay or avert that decision. "If that **is **someone else, that really comes to your house to really **bother** you; without asking… maybe you can uhm…kill them instead of me? Please I haven't hurt you or annoyed you to my knowledge."

Marie did not paused to consider the irony of her words. After all, Johnny had somehow captured her, trapped her in this ghoulish machine, and was planning to use her blood to paint a **wall ** and he had definitly gone about it in a very unsolicited manner.

Johnny turned back towards her, narrowing his eyes at Marie dangerously. She wondered if he was going to go on another rant about people and how terrible they were. This curiosity turned to worry as she saw Johnny's eyes dart towards the knife he had left on the floor.

Another buzzing shriek. This galvanized the dark maniac into action, the knife flashing into his hand in movements to fast for Marie to register.

"You don't want to kill me-"

"Shut Up!" Johnny was apparently tormented by this decision the shriek had now posed him with. While Marie was here and really available for a slaughter, she did not deserved death. On the other hand, someone was waiting rather impatiently outside his door who would most likely easily earn and early end.

Marie woul have found the decision easy to make, but then again, she was not in control. She was also not insane, or atleast she thought so; she was sure this was fairly large part of Johnny's inability to make a decision.

"Just shut up!"

"I beg you to think about it-"

The ability of Johnny's mood to change abruptly from quiet sadness to abrupt fury had been made clear on Marie earlier in their conversation, such as when Johnny had reacted almost violently to Marie's logical pleas for mercy. Although she knew Johnny was capable of such mood swings, it did not make her any more prepared when they actually occurred.

Anger crossed Johnny's features, quick and terrible, as he lashed out for Marie. The way that Johnny moved his arms and hands made it seem more as if Johnny was gesturing, sweeping his arm out to illustrate a point , and merly forgotten that he was holding his knife. Although this was possible, considering the man's mental state, it was possible that this was entirely deliberate. Marie did not presume to know nearly enough to judge the actions on way or other. There wasn't much she could do about it anyway, restrained as she was.

The blade cut into her cheek just beneath the black bags under her eyes; sharp stinging followed by the uncomfortable feeling of blood welling within the wound. She barely registered the pain before a second strike mirrored the first right underneath her other wound.

That kind of ruled out Johnny doing it by accident.

As Johnny raised his knife for the final downward plunge into Marie's body, she could not help but notice that as Johnny moved, he seemed to be fighting something. Whatever deranged internal arguments he was having with himself no doubt caused his delay in answering the shriek, but also seemed to stay his hand …to prevent the final lethal stab and to make what could've been damaging blows to Marie's face something only glancing.

The lost expression on Johnny's eyes made it clear he was not entirely present at the moment, although in what sense? Marie was not sure. Maybe he is really hearing something, perhaps some strange form of a demon and angel on his shoulder, although she doubted Johnny would only have two of this, since he seemed so desperate to understand and comprehend.

Her closet logical guess was that Johnny was weighting the merits of going upstairs and killing someone or just killing someone right now. Laziness? That seemed so not possible at the moment.

Apparently Johnny's internal battle ended and he finally moved from his forzen position, his hand lowering itself back to his side. The knife remained clenched in one tight, thin fist as Johnny backed away with a sudden realization of what he had done. He stared at the tiny trickle of blood slowly making its way through Marie's perfectly designed features with deep disgust, although with no concern of Marie's wellbeing.

That was confusing…if he needed enough blood to paint a wall with it, then how could so little disturb him so much?

On a slightly related note, why had he not finished Marie off? Maybe knowledge that he liked Marie has stopped him, but that didn't seemed to have an effect on Johnny when he was about to kill her only moments before. That didn't really make any sense either.

Marie wasn't sure what to say in response of Johnny's actions. There was silence as Johnny pressed his hands against his head, the knife still held in his bony fist, his eyes shut tightly almost as if he struggled to keep whatever internal voices within him trapped inside his physical prision.

Two buzzing shrieks in rapid succesion.

"You should answer that" Marie ventured in her calm, level voice. She had to keep calm, anything to calm the man infront of her. The minor injuries she had suffered would almost be like gifts if she could scape this alive.

Johnny looked up at her with sheer hatred, for a moment; dark eyes piercing her soul through her eyes. It was the same look that was present when Johnny was trying to explain why Marie should appreciate the pain she wa going through.

In a way, she understood now what Johnny had been trying to convey, altough it was still hideously twisted. This certainly **would** make her appreciate her life.

No doubt Johnny was upset that Marie herself was not upset. That, unlike many other things, did make perfect sense.

Marie watched as Johnny stood there, hands still pressed against his head tightly, looking down with his mouth opened. No sound came from him, but Johnny shook his head back and forth slightly after a few minutes, unable to keep the battle entirely internal. After what seemed like hours, Johnny finally pulled his hands away from his head, the pressure leaving white marks on his already pale skin; and he looked at Marie with an unreadable expression.

Was she really going to die this time?

Johnny stared at Marie for some time, studying her, thinking. He did not look as tormented as he had before, but he stilled seemed to be making the difficult decision. Marie was worried that words would only antagonize Johnny into finishing what he started.

Almost with some slight nod to an unkown entity, Johnny turned and walked quickly and silently, leaving Marie to her own devices, so to speak.

Incapable of movement and not finding much else she could do in her current situation, Marie decided to revisit what had happened in her mind, hoping it may give her a clue to help her escape.

How had she got there? On day she was walking home and then she was here…had Johnny knocked her out? She had no physical injuries when she woke. Has Johnny somehow conviced her into coming back with him? She would've remembered that. Her memory was so indistinct on what had exactly happened and that was extremely irritating.

Why had Johnny chosen **her**? Marie could not help but feel it had been a mistake. After all, Johnny had lectured Marie on the reprehensibility of mankind and quite obviously not expected intelligent and understanding answers from her. He had expressed regret at having to kill her and called her his friend. Marie could not believe that Johnny had been tracking her this long for whatever bad things she had commited.  
It had to have been a random choice.

That made Marie feel slightly better. Atleast there was nothing she could've done to prevent this.

Two, perhaps three hours passed before Johnny returned. The blood on Marie's face had dried, although the splatters on Johnny's seemed much more recent and fresh. He looked at Marie with an extremely confused expression, as if he had completely forgotten she was there. Maybe he had…Marie would not put it past him.

Johnny narrowed his eyes at her, staring at her like someone watching a peculiar insect. Again the faintly lost look in his eyes was present, the definite impression that he was listening for or to something.  
Finally, he moved back and brushed off his shirt slightly, self-consciously, although the red stains were far too permanent to be removed easily.

"…Razzmatazz?" The thorns where still present: they where always present. However, they lacked the kind of malice and hatred that had been present before, and Marie's hope for freedom was reignited with more fervor.

"Yes. Nny?"

At the sound, Johnny smiled in a very strange way. It was almost like some kind of pressure had been released. Marie had not seen him smile since he had first mentioned his nickname at all. On a normal person, the pleased smile would'nt have been disarming and he's was but Marie quickly placed her guard up again. Johnny had said himself that he was hideously insane and Marie had absolutely no reason to doubt him.

"Yes…"

Johnny tilted his head to one side again, staring at her from a short distance. The confused, appraising look was gone now. If Johnny was capable at all of slight affection, this had to be it. It was the same look he had when explaining how his name was to be pronounced. Marie couldn't trust him, but it was reassuring in a strange way. Maybe she wouldn't die after all.

"Yes…Marie, right?"

Marie couldn't help but smile at this response, hoping that Johnny wouldn't feel threatened and decided to kill her anyway. "That's right. Was that…?"

"Hmm?" Confusion for only a second. "Oh…you…proved to be correct on that point." The cold, angry tone was entering the thorns of his speech again. "A solicitor… someone more deserving of being burned." Johnny glanced at her for a moment, as if worried that Marie wouldn't remember his previous justification –-burning an effigy-- for ending her life. Marie did remember and nodded for him to continue, which seemed to satisfy Johnny.

He moved his focus from Marie to the knife, which again seemed to have appeared in his hand, stained dark brownish-red. Johnny played with the edge as he spoke, bitterness and barely repressed fury giving the thorns new points and renewed danger. "Thoughtless, careless human beings. All of them… I would have killed her even if she had not decided to insult me. She was large." A twisted smile came across Johnny's face. "She had a lot of blood. Convinient, really."

"Then you don't need me, do you?"

Johnny looked at her, then back at the knife in his hand, looking almost genuinely surpised and perplexed by this simple question, that Marie felt followed his story logically. Johnny thought for a moment before looking up with a strange expression on his face, as if he had reached some kind of spiritual epiphany. He turned and took slow steps towards Marie, inciting the instinctive fear response on her, though she tried to surpess it as much as she could. Johnny was a predator… everything about him bled predator, it was hard for Marie to stiffle that response, even with her fatalistic view of death.

"No…no, I suppose I don't"

"Then, would you let me go? Because I really **would **like to go…this is still kind of painful…" Marie touched her words with a light sense of humor, hoping that it would would help pacify Johnny's homocidal urges.

Johnny inclined his head at her again. In a way, Marie felt as if she was being promoted: promoted from from the lower creature that Johnny must have viewed her in order to kill her, to the level of a decent human being. She had thought that originally this would save her beforehand, but it turned out necessity --in terms of the requiered blood-- had forced her to relinquish back to an object. Johnny **had** apologized and expressed regret, although what little good that would have done for Marie, before he had prepared to kill her. But now, she felt as if she had gained the respect once again. Johnny's "bestest bestest friend", as he had put it.

At least, that's how she hoped Johnny was able to kill people. That was the only way that made sense to her.

Johnny reached upwards with his long, almost impossible thin arms, undoing the tight buckles that pressed painfully against Marie's chest. The realease of pressure was wonderful, as was the removal of the threat of her demise. Despite the smell of blood, death, and vague scent of cherries in the air, she breathed deeply and cherished it. One by one, the restraints around her wrists and ankles were realeased, and she stumbled to the floor unsteadily, her legs numb. Johnny watched this with the same sense of detachment as before, his hands held behind his back.

"Alright." This simple word seemed to amuse the maniac greatly, and he smiled with a kind of insane abandon Marie was not familiar with. It was very unsettling. "Alright, you can go. I don't really need you after all."

Marie struggled to keep calm, still not trusting the blue haired guy that stood nearby with such manic smile on his face. She smiled weakly back at him, again hoping to not antagonize him farther. "Thank you."

Johnny's eyes widened for a moment and once again, he leaned his head to one side, a look of classic confusion on his face at Marie's words. Johnny then shrugged and began walking off, guessing correctly that Marie would follow him in an attempt to get out of this basement.

"…That's alright." Everpresent barbs in his words, but underlaced with a kind of confusion.

Marie wondered briefly if Johnny really would feel sorry is she ended up dead. Was this show of symphaty just that: a show? Would he have gleefully reveled over her mangled body? It was an unpleasant train of thought, so Marie struggled to move on to others.

She studied the walls as they passed by, finding disturbing paintings of frighteningly beautiful quality, as she ascended what felt like endless stairs.

How had Johnny dragged her this far down? Was he that strong?

"Um…Nny?" She felt a kind of contentment at using his nickname, but still feared the guy who who walked infront of her; with such quiet dangerous confidence.

"Yes?" The confusion was lessening now.

"Can I ask you something?"

Johnny turned his head slightly to one side, looking at a wall as he passed by, apparently regarding this carefully.

"A few things really…" Marie fumbled for some words, already piecing together an apology if Johnny turned vindictive. "If its alright with you…"

"It…" Clawlike fingertips brushing against the wall and he walked upwards. "I suppose…"

He didn't need to warn Marie to be careful with her words.

"You mentioned something about you not being able to die…"

Johnny was silent for a very long time, nothing in his posture or gait indicating he had heard the semi-question at all. Marie began to feel extremely self-concious as they made their way through endless rooms, each with their own bizarre form of torture device. She lost count of how many they walked through while Johnny maintained his silence.

"That." Dangerously soft and without emotion. Marie had already regretted her question, wishing she had thought of something less volatile. Why on **earth** had she asked a question like that? That only worse possible question would have been asking why Johnny was crazy in the first place.

She looked at to one side of the current room of death to find what looked like a gutted body hanging from a wall and a severed foot on the floor. Johnny stepped over the lone member without thought, but Marie swerved around it, struggling to keep her composture.

"I don't think I can die." Finally the response came, in the same emotionless tone as before. Johnny reached forward and opened a door, finally revealing a room that seemed to be above earth. The semi-boared window had a view of the stars, the moon, and other houses.

Another rush of relief flooded through Marie's thin frame at the thought of freedom being so close and yet so far.

"Alright…" Marie did not want to pursue the topic any further, fearing an attack; and watched carefully as Johnny made his way across the barren floor, past a ratty couch and a TV, to the one other door. She opened it with an almost dignified air, reavealing the outside world only footsteps away. "I propably shouldn't have asked."

"That's alright." Johnny stared at her for a moment before the smile returned to his face. "After all…" the manic smiled returned. "I don't think you'd understand anyway."

She had to say something…but what?

"Thanks again for letting me go, Nny."

She winced slightly. **Brilliant**.

Again, the nickname came from her with some degree of awkwardness, still not used to its sound or function. It again elicted the same pleased response from Johnny, a strange sense of bewilderment and pleasure at being called by such familiar name, even one that he had given himself. It was peculiar and Marie did not quite undertand, but that was not really important.

She felt the grass underneath her feet through her thin flip-flops as she truly walked outside, unmolested and unimpeded, turning to see Johnny standing in the doorway of his house, staring at her again. Something seemed wrong… Johnny was looking at her in the same confused way, apparently not sure of what he should say or do.

"Bye." Marie ventured to raise a hand and wave, and Johnny, seemingly relieved, waved back silently. The door slammed and Marie stood on the lawn for a moment, unable to comprehend what had happened. A tortured scream of a human being came from the boarded house she stood in front of and next door, the squeaking of what must have been a frightened child followed.

Without hesitation, Marie ran to the nearest police station.

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"You made a friend, Nny."

Johnny was sitting on his couch, contemplating what had just happened in confusion. Nail Bunny's voice was currently dominant and in fact, the one that had stopped him from killing Marie when the chance arose.

"I don't make friends." Johnny remarked casually, looking over to where the rabbit had been attached forcibly on the wall. "It doesn't really work with me."

"This Marie girl seems kind of nice. It's good you didn't killed her."

"I didn't need to." Johnny did not really see the point of this conversation. It was rare in his life that he felt rather complacent and not agonizingly tortured by his existence, so he was kind of enjoying it. The wall was fine, he wasn't hungry, one of his favorites shows was on…

He doubted Marie would come back. Ever. It was not like she had a motive to do so. "Besides, I don't think she was my friend anyway. She won't come back"

"This time you didn't just asked her to do something for you though, like some some of the others. You actually talked with her, remember?" Johnny did remember clearly, which presented another confusing element to his rare, satisfied state. "And she didn't inspire you to kill either."

"That is true."

"You had a sane conversation with her." Bunny paused for a moment. "Mostly. And she was a decent girl, right?"

Johnny felt like he was loosing an argument , although he did not know who it was with. He and Bunny weren't really arguing… "True…"

"I told you they were out there. You should talk to her again. She could be your friend."

"You know what happens to my friends." Johnny normally would have made his words dangerous and intriguinly dark and mysterious; but enthralled in the television as he normally was, they only came out with the same flat certainty that his original assesment of his friend-making abilities. "They all turn into the others, those bloated ticks…" Johnny seemed to buster up his normal righteous anger, but in the end he subsided back into the couch. "You know what I mean."

"Despite what you may believe. I think Marie may be different. You should give her a chance."

Johnny waved a hand in Nail Bunny's direction, fully intending to never intiate contact with Marie again. "Alright, if you think that's a good idea."

Nail Bunny lapsed into silence and Johnny was left to the television.

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"I'm telling you, thus phychotic maniac kidnapped me and and ranted semi-coherently about deeply philosophical topics"

The officer looked at Marie with tired boredom. "Uh huh. And why have we never heard of this…" She paused. "Johnny C. is it?"

"Yes." Marie was now irritated, becoming more sarcastic than she intended. She had assumed the police would do something to help her, but as it turned out, Johnny had no criminal record. Despite the sheer amount of dead bodies in Johnny's house, the police had not apparently noticed he **liked to kill people**.

It was almost as if Johnny didn't exist.

Maybe that's why he couldn't die. But now wasn't the time for that.

"And you said he killed people?"

"Lots of people. He would have killed me, but he let me go at the last minute."

"Why?"

"In favor of someone else."

"Did you catch their name?"

Now that would've been helpful. "No…That didn't really came up."

"Where did you said he lived?"

Marie had tried to memorize the street that Johnny lived on and the number of his house as she ran, but he wasn't sure if this information was reliable. Sure enough, as soon as she told the police officer what she did recall, she looked back at her with **irritated ** boredom.

"That street doesn't exist."

Marie looked at her with a strange expression. "Doesn't exist?"

"No record." She flipped through her papers, trying to convey the feeling she was doing something useful or related to the conversation. "Are you sure you weren't having a strange **dream** or something?"

"Normally, I wouldn't doubt that." Marie had an abnormal amount of sarcasm in her voice. "But then again, normally I don't **cut myself** when I'm dreaming."

"Are there any razors in your house?" She looked down at her papers, returning back to tired boredom.

"Yes." Marie answered, rolling her eyes. What house didn't have any razors? Especially considering Marie loved to mak crafts. Did she think she'd be foolish enough to cut herself? What would be the **point**?

She took a deep breath and decided to calm down; and take a more passive approach. Just drop it. "If you want, I can try and take you the street."

The officer rolled her eyes before straightening papers entirely unrelated to Marie. In fact, she wasn't sure he saw her write anything she had just said down, at all. "Not tonight. It's late. Go home and get some rest. Come back here tomorrow."

The tone in her voice made it clear that she fully expected Marie not to come back and to dismiss what had happened as a bad dream. But the wounds on her face did not make that a likely possibility.

"Thanks you for your trouble."Marie did not want to say that, but she felt it was the best response. She left the police station feeling deeply unfullfilled and somewhat angry.

As she walked home, she found herself confused as she mused over her recent encounter. There was no way that Johnny could murder so many people and not get caught…how did he do it? Didn't their families notice members missing? A beloved notice her boyfriend missing a head? Johnny got away with an obscene amount …no, an **impossible** amount of violence, so much that he could not blame this on police incompetence.

Maybe someone was paying to hush it up? But there was no way someone would pay to keep that many murders quiet. It wouldn't really be a good investment on their part. Someone was bound to notice. Then again, so far no one had.

This was all very confusing.

Marie kept running through the conversation the two had had and finding it more frightening. She could not believe she had made it out alive. Every word and action and logical conclusion pointed to her being nothing more than specialized **paint** at the moment, and yet here she was.

Alive and well and on slightly-better-than-neutral terms with a deranged serial killer.

She could not believe she had made it out alive. How many people had died before her and would die after her? She didn't know. It was a disturbing thought to consider herself the only one to survive such systematic human destruction.

She wondered exactly what troubled Johnny. Marie was sure that Johnny was pretty much beyond any kind of help, but she wondered with a kind of scientific curiosity. Maybe voices? He did seem to listen intently at times when Marie had heard nothing. Did voiced tell him to kill? Even she grimanced at that thought. That would be far too trite and cliché. Johnny seemed fully aware of exactly what he was doing.

Marie could somewhat understand his origins from the fractured and illogical conversation they had, but that did not lessen the fear and confusion she felt when she thought about him. Killing other people…that was so…how could he do that?

As she mused before, she doubted Johnny had a very clearly defined sense of etics. Marie would have been his opposite in this regard… she had a very clear, although somewhat lenient, definition of right and wrong; and Johnny fits squarly into the last category. Marie may be forgiving, but murder was something she did not approve at all. Although she could understand and to some point symphatize with Johnny about why he wanted to kill people; she did not think Johnny should actually done so.

As she reached her small, sparsely furnished apartment; she shrugged her soulders, wishing to remove the matter from her mind entirely. If there was one thing she could be sure about Johnny, she was never going to see him again. And that was good enough reason to sleep peacefully and put the matter to rest, which was exactly what Marie did.


End file.
